A Christmas Carol: InuYasha Style
by Rhya Storm
Summary: InuYasha is quite the Scrooge, but with the help of a few surprising visitors Christmas Eve, can he change his ways? Done with great love and respect for Mr. Charles Dickens.
1. Stave One

A/N: I wrote this a looooooooong time ago. I am not to be blamed by its sheer and utter oldness. _I _think it's pretty good. Please, enjoy. It gets better, promise.

Disclaimer: This is based exclusively off Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol". Whole _paragraphs_ have been lifted from it. Inuyasha and co. are copyright to Rumiko Takashi, and were brought into this world purely for the sake of my friends and mine enjoyment. I am making no money off of this, and neither is the author. I just temporarily borrowed everything, save a few liberties I took with the plot.

* * *

Inuyasha growled as he stalked through the building. Warm. It was too damn warm in here. What the hell was Kaede thinking? He really needed to talk to her about the amount of coal used per day. It cost too much to keep this place at the current temperature. Honestly, what was his staff coming to these days?

He strode into his office, dumping his coat carelessly across a nearby shelf. He sat down and began sorting out all his paperwork. He had barely begun, however, when he was interrupted by one of his employees. What was her name again? Sara? Sally? What did it matter, anyway. She was chattering on about how it was Christmas time, a time of family friends, and giving, and all that . . . did she really think he cared? He had heard this line of thinking before, and knew exactly where she was headed.

" . . . and so, sir, I was wondering if I could take tomorrow off, to spend time with my husband and children, sir . . ."

He cut her off abruptly. "Tomorrow off? Whatever for? Do you _wish_ to have an entire day's work docked off your payroll? Is that it?"

She bristled, and for a moment, Inuyasha hoped she would strike out at him, giving him an excuse to fire the annoying . . . woman. But she calmed herself and explained, "No, sir, it's just that, it's Christmas, and most employers normally give their workers tomorrow off, and I was hoping -"

"Hoping?" he snorted, interrupting her yet again. Honestly, the _ideas_ these people came up with! He was beginning to suspect that it was all just a plot to waste his precious time. "Listen, whats-your-name . . ."

"Sango, sir," she said through clenched teeth. He ignored her. " . . . you don't seem to understand what you're asking. Tomorrow is a work day, just like any other day, and unless tomorrow is Sunday, which, last time I checked, it wasn't, you don't get to stay at home and laze about!"

"But – but, sir, it's _Christmas_!"

He snorted at her naiveté. "Christmas! All this fuss about some holiday! Feh! No, you may _not_ take tomorrow off, and that's that. Go away now, or else you'll find yourself jobless."

The wench, whatever her name was, Sango, seethed visibly, frustrated. She left the room in a hurry, though. Whether it was because she was intimidated or too furious for words, he didn't know, nor did he really care. All he cared about was that she was finally gone, leaving him to work on in peace.

"_Christmas_," he muttered, disgusted. "Feh!"

Sango stalked out of the office in a frustrated and righteous rage. Who the hell did her boss think he was! To keep her from her family on _Christmas_!

Kaede, Inuyasha's secretary/assistant, looked up from her place by the fire, where she had been carefully adding coals to the boiler over the past several hours, raising the temperature to the point where you could actually bear to take off your coat, if you felt so inclined. She chuckled sadly at the expression on the woman's face. "Don't say I didn't warn you, Sango. Inuyasha's as cold as a winter morn with everything, an' Christmas in particular. Not your fault he is the way he is. He won't let any of us take the day off. It's not just you. We've all tried to change his mind, but . . ." the older woman trailed off and shrugged, tossing another coal into the fire.

Sango sighed, defeated, as her daughter entered the workshop, bringing her dinner.

"Good afternoon, Kaede!" Kagome, Sango's eldest, said cheerily. "And a very merry Christmas to you!"

Sango smiled at her daughter's good spirits. "Good afternoon, Kagome. But, I fear it shan't be such a merry Christmas this year." She scowled in the direction of her boss's office. "Master Yokai won't allow me Christmas off."

Kagome's eyes widened in distress. "Who – Inuyasha! Why ever not? It is the season of merriness and cheer – our family should be together! Our families used to be friends!"

Sango shrugged in resignation. Kagome, however, would not have it. "I think I'll have a word with Master Yokai," she said, eyes flashing. "I'll make him see reason, Mother, don't worry."

Kaede chuckled at Kagome's retreating back. "There's a courageous girl you've got there, Sango, no mistake."

Sango smiled wryly. "Yes; I'm not sure whether to worry for her or Inuyasha!"

* * *

Inuyasha looked up to find that, yet again, he found himself interrupted, this time by a young, dark-haired woman. She was quite pretty, he noted absently, more focused on his irritation on being interrupted once more.

"What?" he asked crossly. The young girl, unperturbed, smiled benignly at him.

"Good sir, I've come to ask, could perhaps my mother stay at home this Christmas? The young ones are quite hard to handle that day, and I could use the help."

He snorted. "And who might your mother be?" he inquired shortly.

"Sango Higurashi, sir. Please, sir, it would mean so much to me, and all my family," she pleaded, her brown eyes wide. Higurashi? No, it couldn't be her. Much too pretty.

He grunted, still displeased at her intrusion. But he knew well the nature of young women like this; stubborn as mules, she most likely wouldn't leave until he agreed to let her mother have Christmas off.

"Feh! Well, I suppose if you must have it, you must. Away with you, now, and leave me in peace!"

"Thank you, sir!" Kagome cried happily. "And a very merry Christmas to you!"

"_Feh_!" he growled as she closed the door, and didn't give the matter another moment's thought.

* * *

That same evening found Inuyasha Youkai trudging through the wintry streets of London, a discontented scowl on his face. No one stopped to smile at the sight of him, or wish him a Merry Christmas, for his visage was cruel and mean-spirited.

He turned a corner and approached his small mansion. The sign near the gate said "Youkai and Miko." Inuyasha's partner, Kikyo Miko, had been dead seven years. He'd never bothered to change the sign after her death. Some people, new to the district, still came calling and called him 'Mr. Miko', or Mr. Youkai. It didn't really matter which you called him; he answered to both.

Now, the brass knocker that sat on Inuyasha's door was quite unremarkable. It was really very plain, with merely a flat, chiseled base and a hinged handle with which to knock, no decoration of any sort to be found upon it.

So, it was highly unusual when, as Inuyasha went to open the door, it suddenly took on the appearance of Kikyo Miko's face. The once attractive visage of the Hanyou's former partner was twisted into a mask of agony.

Inuyasha stared at the knocker for a moment, startled. Then, he snorted, dismissing the apparition as a hallucination, brought on by long days of work. "Feh!" he muttered, and, so saying, swung open the door and stormed into his house.

The interior of his house was cold and grey, and very sparsely furnished. Inuyasha could have indeed afforded much more lavish accommodations than the ones he presently owned, but he was a miserable money-pincher. He did not mind the darkness that pervaded every corner of the dwelling, for darkness was cheap, and he liked it.

Tossing aside his black cloak onto a nearby chair, he climbed the stairs to his room, which was just as empty and gloomy as the rest of the house. His closet was off in a corner, barely filled with his clothes. His bed stood in the center of the room, grey and mournful like all Inuyasha owned. On the nightstand, there was a pitcher of water and a bowl of soup, left there by his maid, Miss Lark. He downed it in two gulps, the pitcher in three.

On the far left wall, there was an old bell connected to the downstairs hall that had once been used to summon servants. As there was only one in the house at present, Inuyasha hardly had need of it, and it had been sitting there collecting dust for years.

Inuyasha was startled from his moody contemplation of the grey walls by the sound of that bell starting to ring again. It rang, fast and loud, along with every other bell in the house, creating quite a din.

Apprehensively, Inuyasha rose from his bed and inspected the ringing bell. The rope was moving up and down, as if someone were pulling it, but no one was in the house, surely? Miss Lark had already left some time ago.

Then, through the constant clanging of the bells, he heard something else – a heavy clanking, coming from deep down below, as if someone was dragging a heavy chain over the empty barrels of a store-keepers cellar.

It grew steadily louder, first on the floor of the downstairs hall, then clanking up the great stairway, through the corridor towards his room.

Suddenly, through the door floated a ghost – a misty specter whose beauty was cold and imperious, despite the heavy chains draped about it, a spirit whose face Inuyasha knew very well indeed.

His old, deceased partner, Kikyo Miko, ghosted into the room, pale and translucent, but undoubtedly there. The same face, the very same. Kikyo's long, dark hair, her thick overcoat she never went without, except in the summertime, and she was so transparent that he could see the two buttons at the back of the cloak through her waist.

He'd heard that Kikyo had sometimes been so transparent you could see right through her, but he'd never believed it 'til now.

And yet, even now he did not believe it. Even though Kikyo's dark eyes were boring holes into him, chilling him to the bone, he was incredulous. Ghosts, exist? Feh!

"Feh!" he repeated aloud, as cold and caustic as ever. "What do you want with me?"

The ghost stared at him icily before replying, in a voice of wintry frost, "Much."

Inuyasha blinked, and attempted to appear unperturbed. "Who are you?"

"Ask me who I _was_," the spirit commanded.

"Who _were_ you, then?" he inquired scornfully, trying to show his low opinion of the game, whatever it was.

"In life, I was your partner, Kikyo Miko," she responded tonelessly, giving no indication that she had noticed his scorn.

Inuyasha's ears were practically pinned to his head. He attempted to snort, "Feh!", but a glare from the spirit stopped him almost immediately. He began to realize, slowly, that the apparition was speaking the truth. The thought made him uneasy.

"Can you sit down?" he asked, trying to mask his apprehension.

"I can."

"Do it."

He hadn't been sure if a creature that transparent would be able to sit, but the ghost sat down on the single chair by the wardrobe as if it had been doing it for years.

The ghost turned its haunting face to him once more, scrutinizing him. "You don't believe in me," it said finally.

Inuyasha was beginning to become slightly frightened of this incarnation of his former, formidable partner. "No, I don't," he responded, mentally bracing himself for the explosion he felt was sure to follow.

But, instead, it merely countered, "What evidence would you have of my reality besides that of your senses?"

Inuyasha shrugged, still standing by the bed. "I don't know."

"Why do you doubt your senses?"

"Because they can be fooled," he answered decisively. "True, my senses are better than most, but they can still be fooled by elaborate tricks, just as anyone else's."

He struggled to maintain his cool control of himself, forcing down his growing horror at the sight of his dead partner staring him in the face. But his horror overwhelmed him when the spirit calmly reached up and ripped off her lower jaw, exposing bone and tendon and muscle, before forcing it back on again. His eyes grew round, and he sat down on the bed abruptly. "Good Lord! Phantom, why do you trouble me?"

It answered calmly, ignoring his sudden fright. "It is required of every man and woman that the spirit within them should walk among their fellows, and travel far and wide; and if the spirit does not do this in life, it is doomed to do so in death. I cannot stay, I cannot rest, I cannot linger anywhere. My spirit never walked beyond our business, staying within the narrow confines of power and money; and weary wanderings lie before me!"

Inuyasha blinked, slowly absorbing what the spirit had told him. "Seven years dead. And traveling all this time? How fast do you travel?" he wondered.

"On the wings of the wind."

"You might have gotten over a great quantity of ground in seven years," he observed.

The spirit suddenly became agitated and angry, its face twisting in impotent fury. "Oh, blind, blind, you are so blind! Not to know the importance of goodness, and the passing of it to others! Nor to know the incessant labor of those dead, trying to pass goodness on when those we help can neither hear nor see us! Not to know that no amount of regret can make up for a wasted life! Yet I was like this one; I was once like you!"

"But – but you were always good at business - " Inuyasha faltered.

"Business!" the ghost screeched, now livid with rage. "Mankind was my business! The common welfare was my business – charity, forbearance, mercy, all were my business! The dealings of my, our, trade, were but a drop of water in the vast ocean of what my business was!"

Inuyasha was very dismayed to see the specter going on at this rate, and was beginning to be very nervous indeed, in the face of its anger at his ignorance.

The spirit suddenly calmed, though urgency replaced the fury in its face. "Hear me! My time is short."

"I will," Inuyasha promised, now thoroughly intimidated by the ghost.

"I am here tonight to warn you that you face my fate at death, if you continue as you have. But you have a chance and hope at escaping my fate, Inuyasha!"

Inuyasha shook his head, confused. "What chance is this?"

"You will be haunted by three Spirits."

Inuyasha inwardly balked at the thought of more ghosts. "If this is the chance, I think I'd rather not," he said hurriedly.

"Without their visits, you cannot hope to leave the path I walk," the specter told him sternly. "Expect the first tonight, when the bell tolls Ten. Expect the second when the bell tolls Eleven. And expect the last when the last stroke of midnight has sounded. You will see me no more; but for your own sake, remember what has passed between us!"

The ghost then rose, and backed slowly out of the room, its face never leaving his until it sank through the wood of the door, and the sound of the clanking chains faded and disappeared.

Inuyasha sat there for a moment, stunned in the wake of what had just happened. A cold breeze stirred across his face, however, waking him from his trance. The window leading to the streets below was now wide open.

Inuyasha crossed the room and shut the window, then went over to the door and inspected it. It was locked, as it had been just before the spirit had shown itself; the bolts and hinges were undisturbed.

Inuyasha tried once again to snort, and once again failed before he even started. He crossed the room to his bed, sat down heavily on it, and, without even bothering to undress, lay down and was asleep almost instantly.


	2. Stave Two

A/N: I'm in my Computer Science class right now - it's the only reason I've been able to keep uploading this old thing.One chapter a day, 'til the 24th, mah peeps! Do enjoy (even though none of you has reviewed yet. So sad ...).

* * *

When Inuyasha awoke later, it was nighttime, the sky as black as pitch, what he could see of it from his window, in any case. He glanced around irritably, trying to discern what had awoken him. From outside, the great city bell tolled, loud and melancholy, the hour – ten 'o' clock.

A great flash of light appeared that instant, so bright as to be blinding. Inuyasha yelped and covered his stinging eyes. When he finally opened them, there was a shining figure standing before him by the window.

It appeared to very young, and yet not so much a child as an old man, if one judged by the expression upon it's face, or the wisdom in it's gaze. Its long mane of hair was white as if with age, though hair color was no real indication of age – Inuyasha's hair was pure white, and he was only twenty-eight! Its face was youthful and smooth, if somewhat aloof. In one hand it held a branch of fresh green holly, and from its head there came a shining, clear light, by which all this was visible.

Inuyasha tried to recover his dignity, most of which had been lost when he'd cried out. "Are you the spirit, _sir_," he asked caustically, "that my former partner warned me of?"

"I am!" the spirit answered coldly, matching Inuyasha's tone exactly.

"Who and what are you?" the irate hanyou demanded.

The spirit eyed him with an unnerving expression, almost as if it was deciding it was worth answering Inuyasha. Finally, he responded, "I am Sesshoumaru, the Ghost of Christmas Past."

"Long past?" asked Inuyasha, confused.

"No!" snapped Sesshoumaru, "Your past! The things you will see with me are mere shadows of things that have already been." Then, behaving as if Inuyasha was an annoying toddler, he continued infuriatingly, "So do not attemptto talk to anyone. They won'tperceive you. Now, come!"

"Wa – wait a moment!" sputtered Inuyasha as the spirit strode to the window. "What is it you want with me?"

Sesshoumaru turned slowly and looked down his nose at Inuyasha. "Generally, nothing," he responded calmly. "But I am here tonight for your welfare, heaven knows why. Now. _Come._" He held out his hand, clearly meaning for Inuyasha to follow him through the window.

Inuyasha stepped forwards, then halted.

"What _now_?"

Inuyasha glared at him. "I am mortal," he informed the spirit, "and am liable to fall."

Sesshoumaru nearly sneered at him. "Half-mortal, anyways," he corrected Inuyasha. "A touch of my hand, and you will fly. Do try not to test my patience much further." With that, the spirit reached out and grabbed Inuyasha's arm, and soared out over the city.

They flew for what seemed like miles, over rooftops, chimneys, streets and factories, and yet they never seemed to leave the city, or even the general neighborhood. Just as Inuyasha started to puzzle this mystery, they began to descend.

They landed in front of a great, emptied warehouse, where there was apparently a great party. Outside, children bundled in snow gear shrieked gleefully and ran about pell-mell, hurling snowballs at one another. Sesshoumaru led him closer to a small group of children, saying, "This is Master Myoga's annual ball."

"Master Myoga?" Inuyasha repeated, bemused. "But, he's been dead for years . . . ever since I was sixteen!"

"I told you," Sesshoumaru said condescendingly, "I have brought you to your past. Look," he pointed towards the children near the lone stand of pine trees.

Inuyasha walked closer, and suddenly realized who the children were. "That's . . . that's me . . . but barely more than ten . . ." he said, awed.

"My, aren't we quick on the uptake," said Sesshoumaru snidely. Inuyasha ignored him, lost in memories.

His parents had always taken him to his godfather's annual Christmas ball, before they had passed away when he was seventeen. He had played with the other children, then . . . before business had become his life.

He watched his ten-year-old self gambol about happily, shouting and laughing with the rest. He even smiled a bit at the sight of his old childhood friend – Kagome Higurashi. She was only a few years younger than he was. As he watched, he wondered suddenly what had become of her. He had buried himself in his family's business after his parent's death – become hard and cold and uncaring. He hadn't heard of her in years.

Sesshoumaru watched Inuyasha, amused, as sudden understanding hit the hanyou. "Higurashi . . . Sango Higurashi . . ." he breathed. "That woman . . . that was Kagome!" Why hadn't he recognized her?

The spirit answered his question as if he'd spoken it out loud. "You no longer remembered her," he said. "You wore quite a different heart when you knew her. She, too, has changed. For the better, unlike you," the spirit couldn't seem to resist adding.

Inuyasha's ears drooped as he realized he had come face-to-face with an old, cherished friend, and not even recognized her. His heart, which had gone so long without feeling, began to hurt slightly once more. Sesshoumaru watched on with a slightly self-satisfied air.

They stood there a while, before the ghost beckoned once more. "Come – my time here grows short," he said imperiously, grabbing hold of Inuyasha once more.

"Wait!" Inuyasha cried hurriedly. "Where are you taking me this time?"

The spirit did not answer, and Inuyasha was pulled once more through that strange, in-between place he had already traveled through once before.

They landed by the factory once more, but this time they were inside, surrounded by garlands, candles, and other people. Inuyasha realized that it was the second ball after Myoga had died – the first after his parents had died.

Inuyasha quickly found himself again – seventeen or eighteen, tall and strong. The younger him looked sad; oh, unbearably sad, but very preoccupied.

Inuyasha watched with growing apprehension as an older version of Kagome approached the younger him. She walked up and said, "Inuyasha, I'm so sorry . . . I know that your parent's passing has been hard-"

The young Inuyasha looked up as if he'd only just noticed her. "Oh . . . hello, Kagome," he said distantly.

Kagome seemed taken aback, but only for an instant. "Inuyasha, please listen to me! Your parent's deaths were hard, I know, but that's no excuse to bury yourself in your work and forget everything else, including - "

"Are you quite through?" he asked indifferently.

"Including our friendship!" she finished. "Inuyasha, you're avoiding me, why? You're not the same anymore, you're different, you're . . . freezing over!"

The younger Inuyasha snorted. "Feh!"

Kagome glared at him, tears in her eyes. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I haven't – but if you continue to act as though we were never . . . Fine. You've changed . . . too much, I think. In the name of and my love of the one you once were, I release you from our friendship, until you see fit to start it again. Goodbye!" she ended fiercely, and stormed away. The younger Inuyasha stared after her for a moment or two, and then returned to his depressed musings.

"Spirit!" Inuyasha barked suddenly, "remove me from this place!"

"I have told you," Sesshoumaru snapped, "these are shadows of things that have been. They are what they are, do not blame me!"

"Remove me!" Inuyasha snarled. "I cannot bear it! Leave me be, haunt me no longer!"

As he struggled with the spirit, he suddenly became quite exhausted, and became aware of being back in his bedroom moments before being overcome by an irresistible drowsiness. He toppled over onto the bed and knew no more.

TBC ...


	3. Stave Three

A/N: Well, chapter three is up! Sorry it's so late, we watched a movie today and I couldn't do anything. Here's a chapter for all you Miroku lovers! **((winkwink)) **And all resident Kagome addicts, too. Though it'd be nice if someone actually _reviewed_ ... **((_HINT, HINT!_))**

* * *

Inuyasha awoke in his own bedroom – there was no doubt as to that. But it had undergone such a transformation that it was barely recognizable. Garlands of holly, ivy, and mistletoe hung from the walls and ceiling, turning the wan room into a veritable grove. From the open door leading to the hallway spilled warm, bright light from the parlor downstairs. His own fireplace was crackling, merrily blazing such as it hadn't in many, many years. 

Inuyasha carefully got up, and, this time wrapping a thick robe over his clothes (which were now quite rumpled) against the chill he felt he was sure to find, went out into the hall and started down the stairs.

When he reached the landing, he could hardly believe he was looking down on his own gray parlor, for it too had undergone a stunning transformation.

Garlands hung once more upon the walls, now so thick that they were more like wallpaper than anything else. A great wreath hung above the huge fireplace, whose blaze was roaring up the chimney. All over the floor and tables, heaped onto every available spot save a great armchair, were turkeys, geese, fame, brawn, great joints of meat, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum puddings, oysters, chestnuts, apples, oranges, pears, cakes, and great bowls of punch. In the one great armchair that had been left alone reclined a young, cheery man in a rich, red robe, and carried a great staff whose hoops shone. The man raised it high to shed its light upon Inuyasha, who was hesitating on the steps.

"Come in, come in!" he cried jovially, "and know me better! I am Miroku, the Ghost of Christmas Present."

Inuyasha did so, looking about himself in awe before turning back to his visitor. The spirit had a fair visage, with long black hair tied behind his neck in a ponytail. One hand was adorned with bandages and rosary beads, while the other was bare.

"Have something to eat!" the spirit offered, gesturing at the food strewn about the room.

Inuyasha politely declined. "Thank you, no. Spirit ... another before you has taught me a lesson, of which I think upon even now. Conduct me where you will."

Miroku grinned. "Take hold of my robe," he commanded.

Inuyasha did as he was told, and held the hem of the robe's sleeve fast.

The room and all its decorations vanished instantly, leaving in their places the snowy city streets at eleven 'o'clock on Christmas Eve.

Inuyasha and Miroku passed on, invisible, straight to Sango Higurashi's house. On the threshold of the door, the spirit smiled, and paused to bless the small four-room house with the sprinklings of light from his staff. Think of that! Inuyasha wondered. Sango was poor, making less than twenty dollars a week, and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed her house!

Once indoors, Inuyasha looked around. The dining room, which was also the kitchen, was lit by the warm glow of the central hearth. Sango laid a threadbare red tablecloth upon the table, assisted by Kagome, who was dressed up in a worn green gown, with cheap ribbons tied in her hair, putting on quite a good show for sixpence. Inuyasha's gaze lingered long upon her – her dark hair, with the fire throwing golden highlights upon it, her face, careworn but still joyful, and listened to her laugh, a delightful sound he had not heard in years.

Beside him, Miroku eyed Sango, whistling in admiration. Inuyasha snorted; apparently ghosts were not saints, after all.

Meanwhile, young Shippo Higurashi dashed about pell-mell, attempting to create a Christmas pudding. Inuyasha had not realized that pudding required quite so much flour – and almost all of it spilled on the floor. The youngest daughter, Rin, stirred a great saucepan of potatoes, now and again checking to see if they were ready to be peeled.

"Whatever had got your grandfather so late?" Sango demanded of Rin. "He promised to take Sota for a walk, but it's nearly midnight as it is!"

"Grandpa's coming!" Shippo shouted from the window. "Hide, Kagome, hide!"

So Kagome hid, laughing, in a nearby closet, Shippo and Rin shushing her incessantly.

Just then, old Grandfather Higurashi came in through the front door, young Sota balanced on his shoulder. Grandfather helped the young boy down from his shoulder – Sota needed the assistance, for the young boy carried a small crutch, and his legs were supported by an iron frame.

"Why, where's our Kagome?" the old man asked as he removed his scarf and jacket.

"Not coming," Sango said.

"Not coming!" Grandfather cried, his spirits suddenly dropping. "Not coming on Christmas!"

Kagome hated to see her grandfather disappointed, even if it was only in jest, so she rushed out the closet early, and ran over to give him a great embrace. Shippo and Rin hustled Sota off to the washroom, so he could watch and smell the Christmas pudding boil.

"And how did little Sota behave?" asked Sango, when Grandfather had hugged Kagome to his hearts content.

"As good as gold," he replied, "and better. Somehow, he gets thoughtful, sitting by himself so much. He thinks of the strangest things you've ever heard. He told me, coming home, that he hoped the people would see him in the church as we passed, because he was a cripple, and it might be pleasant to them to remember, on Christmas, who it was that made lame beggars walk and blind men see."

Sota's active little crutch was heard upon the floor just then, and back he came before another word was spoken. "We went to the butchers and saw the goose, mama!" he cried delightedly. "And, oh, such a goose!"

Grandfather put to boil some mixture of gin and lemons, and stirred it round and round before placing it by the hearth to simmer. Shippo and Rin ran to fetch the goose, with which they soon returned in high spirits.

There never was such a goose. Grandfather said he didn't believe that there ever was such a goose cooked. Decked out by applesauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the whole family. Indeed, Sango said with great delight, they hadn't eaten it all at last! Yet everyone had had enough, and Shippo and Rin in particular were stuffed up to their eyebrows.

Now, Kagome was changing the plates, as Sango left to retrieve the pudding from the washroom.

Hallo! A great deal of steam, and a smell like washing-day rising from the cloth. A smell like an eating house and a pastry-cook's next door to each other, with a laundress's next door to that! That was the pudding. In half a moment, Sango entered, smiling proudly, with the pudding, like a speckled cannonball, so hard and firm, blazing with half a quarter of ignited brandy, and arrayed with Christmas holly stuck into the top.

"Oh, a wonderful pudding!" Kagome exclaimed, as she regarded it as the greatest success achieved by her mother since her birth. Sango said, "Well, I had my doubts about the quantity of flour, but see! It turned out splendid!" Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody said or thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. Any Higurashi would have blushed to hint at such a thing.

At last the dinner was all done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth swept, and the fire made up. The compound by the hearth was tasted, and found to be good, apples and oranges were put upon the table, and a shovelful of chestnuts placed upon the fire.

Then all the Higurashi family drew round the hearth in what Sango called a circle, and at her elbow stood the family display of glass – two tumblers, and a custard-cup without a handle.

These held the hot stuff from the jug, however, as well as golden goblets would have done; and Sango handed it out with beaming looks, while the chestnuts on the fire spluttered and cracked noisily. Then Kagome proposed; "A Merry Christmas to us all. God bless us!", which all the family re-echoed.

"God bless us, every one!" said Sota, the last of all.

He sat very close to his mother's side, upon his little stool. Sango held his tiny hand in hers, as if she loved the child and wished to keep him by her side, and dreaded that he might be taken from her.

Blessings and salutations to many other people rang out after this, and Inuyasha nearly nodded off, though how one can do that as a spirit is anybody's guess. But he raised his head rather speedily upon hearing his own name.

"Mr. Youkai!" cried out Grandfather. "I'll give you Mr. Youkai, Founder of the Feast!"

"The founder of the feast indeed!" cried Sango angrily. "I wish I had him here. I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon, and I hope he'd gain a stomachache from it!"

"My dear," the old man cried, "the children! Christmas Eve."

"It should be Christmas Eve, I'm sure," said the irate woman, "on which one drinks to the health of such a hateful, stingy, unfeeling man such as Inuyasha Youkai. You know he is! Nobody knows it better than I."

"My dear," Grandfather repeated mildly, "Christmas Eve."

Kagome suddenly spoke up. "I'll drink to his health, and the day's," she said softly. "Long life to him! Someday, I'm sure, he'll remember what it was like to love, and we'll all be much happier. A merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, to my oldest and dearest friend."

The children drank the toast after her, but it was the first of the proceedings that had no heartiness in it. Sota drank it last of all, but he didn't care two pence for it. Inuyasha was the Ogre of the family. The mere mention of his name cast a dark shadow on the party, which was not dispelled for a full five minutes. After it had passed away, however, they were ten times merrier than before, from the mere relief of being done with Inuyasha. All save Kagome.

She fondled her worn, chipped mug thoughtfully, staring into the fire. Sango walked over to her eldest daughter. "Kagome," she sighed, "why do you still hope? The Inuyasha you knew is long dead and gone, and shan't be returning. Do lighten up; it's soon to be Christmas, and the young ones will be downcast at your sour face."

Kagome smiled up at her mother. "I shall hope as long as I have hope to give," she replied. "The Inuyasha I knew – and still know to this day – was not a quitter. He's just been buried, is all. Sometimes, I think that what happened was my fault ... that I didn't try hard enough for him." She wiped at her eyes, then smiled brightly. "But you're right – 'tis Christmas, and we all should be grateful."

After that, the talk fell to more every-day things. The chestnuts went round and round; and by and by, they had a song about a lost child traveling in the snow, from Sota, who had a wonderful little voice, and sang it very well indeed.

There was nothing of a high mark in this. They were not a particularly handsome family in many respects; they were not well dressed, their clothes were scanty, their shoes far from waterproof, and Grandfather very likely knew the inside of a pawnbroker's. But they were happy, grateful, and pleased with one another, and contented with the time; and when they faded, and looked happier yet in the bright glow of Miroku's staff at parting, Inuyasha had his eyes upon them, and especially upon Kagome and Sota, until the last.

It was a great surprise to Inuyasha, when he found himself once more in his own bedecked room, to hear a shout of hearty laughter. He went at once to the open window, and looked down to the streets below, and saw a happy couple laughing and dancing together underneath his window, in the glow of a nearby streetlamp. Inuyasha rested his arms onto the windowsill, unmindful of the chill breeze and melting snow, and watched the two dancers, a warm glow growing within his heart. The great clock above them all looked down upon the city, and, upon seeing that all was well, gathered itself and struck, loud and resounding, the first stroke of midnight.

TBC ...


	4. Stave Four

A/N: 'Ello, mah peeps! Special guest appearance here, by the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come! And _curses_ on anyone who gets his name wrong and thinks its the _Ghost of Christmas Future_. Guh.

And much thankies to **magic15**, my first reviewer! Luv you lots!

* * *

As the last toll of midnight lingered upon the nighttime air, Inuyasha remembered the prediction of Kikyo's spirit, and looked about him for the third and last spirit. Turning to face his room once more, the hanyou beheld a solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, crossing the room like a dark mist.

The Phantom slowly, gravely, silently approached. As it neared him, Inuyasha bent down into a low bow, for the in the air through which the Spirit moved seemed to radiate gloom and mystery.

It was shrouded in a deep black garment, which concealed its head, face, and form, and left nothing of it visible save one outstretched hand, ghostly pale and smooth. Inuyasha knew no more of it save what his eyes beheld, for the Spirit neither spoke nor moved.

Very much afraid of this silent Ghost, Inuyasha took a deep breath before speaking.

"Is it that I am in the presence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come?" Receiving no reply, but knowing he was correct, Inuyasha went on, "Ghost of the Future! I fear you ... more than any specter I've yet seen. But, as I realize that your purpose is to do me good; and as I hope to live to be ... to be another man from what I was ... I am prepared to bear you company, and do it with a grateful heart." Still the Phantom did not speak. "Will you not speak to me?"

It gave him no reply. The elegant hand was pointed straight before them.

"Lead on! Lead on!" urged Inuyasha. "The night is waning fast, and it is precious time to me, I know. Lead on, Spirit!"

They scarcely seemed to enter the city, for the city rather seemed to spring up about them. But there they were in the heart of it; in the market, amongst the merchants, in the middle of a cloudy, dreary day.

The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of businessmen. Seeing that the graceful hand was pointed to them, Inuyasha approached them to listen to their discussion.

"No," said a great, fat man with a monstrous chin. "I don't know much about it either way. I only know he's dead."

"When did he die?" inquired another.

"Last night, I believe."

"Why, what was the matter with him? He was so young ... I thought he'd never die! Not in my lifetime, at least."

"God knows," said the first with a yawn.

"What has he done with his money?" inquired a young wolf-demon that seemed vaguely familiar to Inuyasha.

"I haven't heard," replied the large man stiffly. "Company, perhaps. He hasn't left it to me. That's all I know. Good day."

Inuyasha was at first surprised that the Spirit should attach importance to conversation apparently so trivial; but feeling assured that it must have some hidden purpose, he decided to consider what it was likely to mean. It could scarcely have any bearing on the death of Kikyo; the topic of their conversation was male, and at any rate, that was the Past, and this Ghost's province was the Future.

He looked around for his own image, for the clock pointed to his usual time of day for being at the market; but another man stood in his accustomed corner, and he saw no likeness of himself amongst the multitudes that clogged the streets of the market. It gave him little surprise, however, for he had been revolving in his mind and spirit, a change of life, if you will, and he thought and hoped that he saw his new-born resolutions carried out in this.

The Spirit led Inuyasha away from the busy scene, and went into an obscure part of town, to a low shop where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal were bought. A grey-haired old neko-demon sat smoking his pipe. Inuyasha and the Phantom came into the store just as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had scarcely entered when another woman, similarly laden, came in too; and she was closely followed by a man in faded black.

After a moment of blank astonishment, in which the old neko with the pipe had joined them, all three burst out laughing.

"Maid, laundress, and undertaker, all at once!" cried out the first woman. "Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! We've all three of us met here without meaning it!"

"You couldn't have met in a better place," the greying neko assured them. "You were made free of it long ago, you know; and the other two ain't strangers. What have you got to sell? Well, what have you got?"

"Half a minute's patience, Joe, and you shall see."

"What odds, Mrs. Dilbur?" asked the second woman. "Every person has a right to take care of themselves. _He_ always did! Who's the worse for the loss of a few things like these? Not a dead man, I suppose."

Mrs. Dilbur, who seemed to have a knack for agreeing with everyone, said, "No, indeed, ma'am."

"If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, wicked screw, why wasn't he natural in his lifetime, short though it was?" the second woman ranted. "If he had been, he'd have had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself!"

"That's the truest word that ever was spoke, and it's a judgment on him."

"I wish it was a little heavier judgment, and it would have been, you may depend on it, if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, old Joe, and let me know the value of it. Speak out plain, I'm not afraid to be the first, or afraid for them to see it."

Joe went down creakily to his knees to open the bundle, and dragged out a large and heavy roll of some dark stuff.

"What do you call this? Bed-curtains!"

"Ah! Bed-curtains! Don't drop that oil upon the blankets, now."

"_His _blankets?"

"Who else's do you think? He isn't likely to take cold without them, I daresay. Ah! There's his best shirt – the best he had, and a fine one, too. They'd have wasted it dressing him up for burial, if it hadn't been for me."

Inuyasha listened to this dialogue in horror.

"Spirit!" he cried. "I see, I see! The case of this unhappy man could well be my own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what's this!"

The scene had changed, and now Inuyasha was almost touching a bare, uncurtained bed. A pale light, rising in the outer air, fell straight upon the bed; and on it, unwatched, unwept, uncared for save a single sheet covering it from head to foot, was the body of this plundered, unknown man.

"Spirit, let me see some tenderness connected with a death," Inuyasha begged, "or this dark chamber will forever be present to me."

The Phantom then conducted him to poor Sango Higurashi's house, and found Sango, Kagome, and the twins seated round the fire.

Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little twins were as still as statues in one corner, and sat looking down at a large book, taking turns reading it. Sango and Kagome were working busily at needlework. But surely they were very quiet!

"And he took a child, and set him in the midst of them."

The small boy, Shippo, had read those words out as Inuyasha and the Spirit crossed the threshold. Why did he not go on?

Sango laid her work upon the table, and put her hands up to her face. "The color hurts my eyes," she said.

The color? Inuyasha wondered before realizing what must have happened. Ah, poor Sota!

Taking a deep breath, Sango removed her hands from her eyes and picked up her needlework again. "They're better now, again. It makes them weak by candlelight ... and I won't show weak eyes to your grandfather when he comes home, not for the world. It must be near his time."

"Past it, rather," Rin answered, shutting the book. "But I think he has walked a little slower than he used to these last few evenings, mother."

"I have known him to walk with ..." Sango hesitated a moment before going on, "I have known him to walk with Sota on his shoulder, very fast indeed!"

"And so have I," exclaimed Shippo. "Often."

"And so have I," echoed his twin. So had all.

"But he was very light to carry, and Grandfather loved him so that it was no trouble," Sango murmured. "No trouble at all. And there is Grandfather at the door!"

She and Kagome hurried out to meet him, and the old man in his comforter came in. His tea was ready for him, and they all vied to see who should help him to it the most. Then the twins each curled up beside him, as if to say, "Don't mind it, Grandfather. Don't grieve!"

Grandfather was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly with all the family. He looked at the work on the table, and praised the speed and ability of Sango and Kagome. They would be done long before Sunday, Sango assured him.

"Sunday!" he said. "You went today, then?"

"Yes," Sango nodded. "I wish you could have gone. It would have ... would have done you good, to see how green a place it is. But you'll see it often. I promised him that I would walk there on a Sunday. My little, little child. My little child!"

She broke down all at once. Kagome and Grandfather tried to offer comfort, but both were crying as well. They couldn't help it. If they could have helped it, they and little Sota would have been farther apart, perhaps, than they were.

The wolf-demon that Inuyasha had seen earlier entered the house. "Kagome," he began, only to stop at the sight of her tears. She looked up at him. "Oh, hello Kouga," she sniffled, dashing tears from her face. "What is it you want?"

"What is the matter, dearest?" the wolf-demon insisted, moving closer to her. Kagome scowled at him and moved away. "Don't call me dearest," she requested wearily. "What is it you want?"

Inuyasha dashed tears from his face as he turned to face the Ghost before he heard Kouga speak the news. "Specter, something tells me our parting moment is at hand. I know it, but I know not how. Just, please, tell me; who was that man, with the covered face, whom we saw lying dead?"

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come conveyed him to a dismal, wretched, ruinous churchyard. The Spirit stood amongst the graves, and pointed down to one.

Inuyasha was filled with a dreadful foreboding. "Before I draw nearer to that stone to which you point," he asked carefully, "answer me one question. Are these the shadows of the things that Will Be, or are they the shadows of the things that May Be only?"

Still the Ghost pointed downward to the grave by which it stood.

"Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if the course is followed, they must lead. But if the man departs from the course, the ends will change. Say it is so with what you show me!"

The Spirit was as immovable as ever.

Inuyasha crept towards it, trembling as he went; and following the finger, he read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name – INUYASHA YOUKAI.

"Am _I _the man who lay upon the bed?" he exclaimed, horrified. "No, Spirit! Oh, no, no! Spirit! Hear me! I am not the man I was! I will _not_ be the man I must have been for this to happen. Why show me this, if I am past all hope? Assure me that I might yet change these visions, these shadows you have shown me!"

For the first time, the kind hand faltered. As it did, Inuyasha heard Kagome as Kouga told her the news of his death.

"_Why do you not cry for your old friend?"_

"_The true Inuyasha that was my friend died many long years ago, Kouga. I shed my tears for him then. I will not weep for the man that he became, the man that has died, for he is not worth shedding tears over. I used to hope ... but my hope is gone now; I have none to give."_

Inuyasha shook his head in denial. "No! I am not dead within myself! I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, Present, and Future! The Spirits of all three shall strive within me! I will not shut out the lessons that they teach. Oh, Spirit, tell me that I may yet erase the writing on this stone!"

Reaching out to the ghost in supplication to have his fate reversed, he saw a shift in the Phantom's form. It shrunk, collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost.

Yes, and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, however, was that the Time before him was his own, to make amends in!

TBC ...


	5. Stave Five

A/N: Sorry about the overdue wait ... anyway, here it is! Merry Christmas to all, andGods all bless!

* * *

Inuyasha was startled out of his jubilant reverie by the church bells ringing out the lustiest, heartiest peals he'd ever heard.

Running to his window, he threw open the sill – when had it shut? – and stuck out his head. No fog, no mist, no night; clear, bright, stirring, golden day.

"What's today?" he cried, calling downward to a boy in Sunday clothes, who was skipping stones across the paved road.

"_Eh_?" the boy responded.

"What's today, young man?"

The boy straightened up a bit at being called a 'young man'. "Today! Why, _Christmas_ day!" he called back with authority.

"It's Christmas Day!" Inuyasha repeated with disbelief. "I haven't missed it! Say, young man, do you know the Poulterer's butchery, down the next street by the corner?

The boy drew himself up importantly. "I should hope I did!"

"A remarkable young man! Tell me, do you know whether they've sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there? Not the little prize turkey – the big one?"

"What, the one as big as me?"

"What a pleasure to speak with you! Yes, lad!"

"It's hanging there now."

"Is it? Go and buy it."

The boy stared at him. "You're joking!" he exclaimed.

"No, no, I am in earnest!" Inuyasha insisted. "Go and buy it, and tell 'em to bring it here, that I may deliver it to the place where it is bound! Come back with the man, and I'll give you a shilling. Come back in less than five minutes, and I'll give you half a crown!"

The boy was off like a shot.

"I'll bring it to Sango's!" Inuyasha proclaimed to himself as he hurried to dress warmly. "I shan't say who sent it, only that I was requested to bring it. It's twice the size of Sota! The twin's have never pulled a joke such as this, I'll wager!"

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one, though that was for the best, as he wished to remain unknown as the sender, and Kagome may yet have recognized his handwriting. He raced down the stairs to open the street door, ready for the coming of the butcher's man, promising as he went, "Your hope is not in vain, Kagome!"

It _was_ a turkey! That bird could never have stood upon his legs – he would have snapped them in two like sticks of sealing wax.

Inuyasha threw on his coat and set off through the streets. The people were pouring forth, as he had seen with the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come; and, walking with his hands full of his large, bulky bundle wrapped in brown paper and string, Inuyasha regarded everyone with a delighted smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant that three or four good-humored fellows said, "Good morning, sir! A merry Christmas to you!" And Inuyasha was warmed by those simple acts of kindness.

After passing through the market place, just to watch people pass by laughing, he turned his steps towards the Higurashi house.

He passed the door a dozen times before he had gathered up his courage enough to knock. But he made a dash, and did it.

Rin opened the door and stared at him. She had heard all of Sango's stories of the Ogre, Inuyasha, and this looked very much like him – but with such a happy, kind face!

"Are your parents at home, my dear?" Inuyasha inquired, for it was now nearly afternoon.

"Yes, sir," Rin replied. No, surely this could not be the nightmare figure her mother ranted about so often!

"Might you bring them here?" he asked, smiling down at her. Nice girl! Very nice child.

She grinned fleetingly at the stranger, and when he grinned back, she turned and called, "Mama! Grandpa! Someone t' see you!"

"Who is it, Rin?" Sango called from the kitchen, entering the hallway. She looked up and saw Inuyasha, and blanched.

He gave her one of his old, miffed looks, or as close to one as he could feign, and held out the giant package. "This is yours," he informed her stiffly. Sango took it automatically, and staggered underneath the weight of it. He continued, "I was asked to deliver this earlier this morning. Now, Sango, we were once friends, so I'll tell you what. I am not going to stand this sort of thing any longer." Sango, already pale with shock, was growing paler, as Rin watched on with interest. "And therefore," he clapped her earnestly on the shoulder, "I'm going to raise your salary!"

Sango's mouth dropped open – Inuyasha thought he heard a small 'thud' as it hit the floor. He beamed at her, as his happiness and cheer could not be held in check any longer. Sango saw before her the young man she had known so many years ago, and the full impact of his proclamation finally hit her.

She would have truly fallen over, then, if Inuyasha had not seized her arm, and assisted her through the hallway. "A merrier Christmas, I hope, than I have given you for many a year," he added as she walked into the kitchen in a bewildered and happy daze.

Kagome, who was in the kitchen working on some pudding for that night, looked up as her mother came in. Her eyes widened at the size of the package her mother was setting upon the table. "Mother what ...? Who was at the door?" She trailed off as Inuyasha walked in hesitantly after Sango.

She stared at him. He seemed so different than before – she dared hope that her dear old friend was looking back at her through those sheepish golden eyes. He grinned when she didn't start yelling at him, and said, "Merry Christmas, Kagome. If ... well, I was wondering, if you'll forgive me ..."

He was cut off from saying any more as she embraced him in a fierce hug. She was laughing happily. "Of course I forgive you, you great lump!" she cried. He smiled happily and hesitantly hugged her back.

The entire Higurashi family seemed to forgive him of his mistakes within that single afternoon. The turkey was accepted enthusiastically, and the whole family speculated on who might have sent it to them, for Inuyasha decided to remain anonymous as their benefactor.

Later on in the evening, Kagome drew Inuyasha off to a corner of the kitchen. She looked up at him and asked him bluntly, "What happened?" She hastened to add, "Not that I mind! I think this is the most wonderful thing ever ... but how did it come about? What changed you back?"

Inuyasha looked down at the floor and thought a moment. After a minute or so, he looked back up and said softly, "I had a lot of help ... a few people took it upon themselves to visit me, and show me where I went wrong ... and how to make it right."

Kagome beamed at him, satisfied. "Well, give whoever they were my eternal thanks," she told him. "Thanks to them, my oldest friend has come back!"

Inuyasha shrugged sheepishly. "I was awful, I know, and stupid, and ..."

"Oh, be quiet!" she cut him off good-naturedly. "Yes, you were all those things – but what matters is that you realized that, and worked to make things better! _That's_ what counts to my family ... and me."

He grinned. "I swear I'll never do that again," he promised her.

She glared at him in mock severity. "You had better not, Master Youkai, or I'll _drag_ those people down to your house and beat sense back into your skull!"

Inuyasha laughed – the first time he had done so in a long, long time. He swore to himself to help the Higurashi family out as much as possible, and more, through any means by his disposal. He also reminded himself to talk with Kaede as soon as possible. Something had to be done about the amount of coal used per day, as well as salaries – both were much too small!

Inuyasha was better than his word. He helped them all, and infinitely more – and, to Sota, who did NOT die, he was like a father. He became as good a friend, as good a master, and, eventually, as good a husband to Kagome, as the good old city knew. It was always said of him, afterwards, that if anyone knew how to keep Christmas well, it was he who did it best! Some people laughed to see the sudden change in him; but his own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him.

He had no further encounters with the Spirits, but kept their lessons in his heart forever, and passed them on to all he knew. May that be truly said of all of us! And so, as Sota observed, God Bless Us, Every One!

The End.


End file.
